


Ai Baby

by MagiCraft



Series: Ouroboros [3]
Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Gen, Mostly Fluff, Sakuraiba if you squint, original child character - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-01 06:13:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10915971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagiCraft/pseuds/MagiCraft
Summary: It’s Child-Minder Aiba! Juggling the work of and Idol with an 18 month-old toddler is hard work, (even if it is only temporary). Luckily, the rest Arashi knows when to stick together and lend a helping hand.





	1. Chapter One

Aiba Masaki held the squirming child uncertainly at arms length. The eighteen month old toddler squealed happily, thinking the grown mans actions a perquisite to his favourite game. His gleeful chortles shook his small, pudgy body and Aiba struggled to hold onto the boy. Walking carefully, still nervous about the pink bundle in his outstretched arms, the young man took the child into the living room.   
  
The young man was not entirely sure how he had allowed himself to be talked into the task of babysitting his newest cousin. His favourite uncle had gone on his honeymoon with his new, foreign, wife and Aiba suddenly found himself taking care of the child she had brought with her.   
  
It was not that Aiba disliked children; he actually loved them. In fact, he was quite proud that his new aunt had trusted him with looking after her young son. But what was he supposed to _do_ with a little boy for four days? A toddler who was too young to talk properly and even then only in a different language.   
  
He had tried to explain his reservations to his uncle when he made the suggestion at the wedding. The older man had laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Ma-kun,” He had said. “He’s not even two; I would think your knowledge of English is about the same. You’ll be fine. You are fully qualified, after all.”   
  
And Aiba had been unable to argue _that_ point.   
  
Which was why the young Idol now had a miniature houseguest. Gingerly Aiba placed the child at his feet and knelt to face the smiling boy. “Hi Jacob.” He began in broken English. “My name is Masaki. I am a Childminder.” The little boy gave no response and simply stared at the man solemnly.   
  
Aiba sighed and switched back into his native tongue. “My English is no good huh? Oh well…. You’ll have to learn Japanese anyway. I guess I should start teaching you. I should teach you, right? OK!” Having made up his mind to teach the boy Japanese in his role as surrogate father, the young man decided he needed a plan.   
  
His home was not really suited to having children as guests. He had no toys or anything to occupy young minds, but Aiba reasoned that if he was going to be teaching the boy how to talk, Jacob would be kept busy regardless. On that note, he unfolded his long frame and stood. Offering his hand in a universally understood gesture, he spoke to the toddler.   
  
“Jacob is kind of hard to say, huh?” He smiled when the boy trustingly took his hand, looking up at him with his big grey eyes. “I’ll just call you Jay. Okay? Your mother won’t mind, will she, Jay-kun?”   
  
Aiba’s running monologue earned a giggle from the boy. The child didn’t understand the words, but he recognised the kind, slightly silly tone. In the way of the very young, he could sense the mood of his unfamiliar guardian by Aiba’s tone of voice, his facial expressions and his body language. Instinctively, Jacob knew that this stranger was someone friendly. And the child responded appropriately with smiles and with his trust.   
  
“Well, I guess I’ll start by showing you around!” Aiba began, and then added in English: “C’mon Jay-kun. Let’s go. This way.” And he led the child down the small hallway towards the rear of his apartment.   
  
“This is the bathroom.” Aiba pointed to the door on the left. “OK Jay-kun? The bathroom. And next door is the toilet. The toilet.” He repeated the word in English. “But you are still too young to use that, huh?”   
  
Standing in the doorway of the toilet the little boy pointed at the porcelain seat. With a beaming smile, the child exclaimed: “Poo!” In tones of triumph.   
  
Aiba Masaki furrowed his brow in confusion. “What are you saying? What is ‘PU’?” Shaking his head over his inability to understand the boy, the reluctant guardian led him away from the doorway. “Jay-kun has to learn Japanese now.” He said gently to the boy as he led the child to the opposite door and the bedroom.   
  
Aiba pointed out the futon and told the boy in both languages that he would be sleeping here. He was not sure if the child knew the words or simply recognised the futon as a bed, but the boy walked over to the mattress. Dropping to his hands and knees, Jacob crawled on top of the covers and rolled onto his back. Bright eyes looked back at the adult with a mischievous light; the boy wanted Aiba to watch him.   
  
With a squealing peal of laughter, the little boy buried his head in the pillow and lay still. Aiba was about to break the sudden silence himself when Jacob made a very deliberate and very audible snoring noise. He then lifted his head and looked questioningly to his newest friend.   
  
“That’s right!” Aiba bounced gleefully. In one long bound he joined the boy on top of the futon where Jacob now sat up. “This is where you sleep! You’re so smart Jay-kun!” He praised the child, tousling the soft downy hair of his head. At his responding chuckle, the young man clapped excitedly. “So cute!” He continued when the boy imitated him and clapped his own small hands too.   
  
Unable to resist the charms of the bubbly baby, Aiba picked the boy up and held the child at his hip. Holding Jacob close he spun happily. “This isn’t so bad.” He reassured himself and his charge. “You don’t cry, and you’re a genius. Let’s have fun, OK?” He continued. Taking one miniature hand in his own he lent over to look the boy in the eye. “Big brother Masaki will look after you. Can you say Masaki?” He asked. “Say, Ma~sa~ki.” He stressed each syllable and brought their joined hands to point at himself. “Ma~sa~ki.”   
  
“Kee?”   
  
“No, no.” Aiba shook his head but smiled encouragingly. “It’s Masaki; I’m not a tree. Ma~sa~ki.”   
  
The boy struggled to repeat the unfamiliar syllables. “Ma~kee?”   
  
Aiba shrugged. “Oh, well. That’s close enough. I am calling you Jay-kun, after all, huh?” Settling the child more comfortably on his hip, he returned to the living room and sat Jacob on the settee. He told the boy to stay and set about finding something suitable to feed the infant.   
  
Aiba recalled his training as a Childminder. The instructor had told him that toddlers preferred finger food that they could hold in their hands. He wondered if fried chicken counted as finger food.   
  
By the end of their lunch, Aiba felt he had learned more from his little cousin rather than the other way around. He now understood that Jacob had an all-purpose phrase for accepting, offering and asking for all manner of things. Every time Aiba had offer the boy a piece of chicken from his own plate, Jacob had said: “Ta.” Then taken the morsel.   
  
And for every piece of chicken that Aiba had given the boy, Jacob had taken a piece from his bowl and popped it into Aiba’s mouth with an indicative: “ _Taa~_ ” And when, as a result of his generosity, Jacob ran out of titbits on his own dish, he had pointed at the mans plate and had asked questioningly: “Jacob, ta?”   
  
The unlikely caretaker could not help but laugh as he handed his cousin the food. He debated, briefly, whether or not to make more. Before he could make up his mind, however, Jacob wandered away from his empty plate, evidently having eaten his fill. Aiba finished his own meal and tidied away the dishes.   
  
He then set about the task of getting to know his new little friend.   
  
* * *   
  
“Oi! I haven’t read that yet!” Sakurai Sho snatched the newspaper from the older mans grasp and glared at him. Or tried to; Ohno did not seem particularly concerned by his juniors’ glower.   
  
The sleepy eyed man simply gave a half-hearted shrug and absently twirled the pen in his hand. “I’m bored.” He mumbled by way of explanation.   
  
“Then use your sketchbook for your drawing, not my newspapers.”   
  
“I only doodled on the pictures…”   
  
Ninomiya paused the game on his DS and examined the paper over Sakurai’s shoulder, laughing sarcastically. “I think the Pope looks better this way.” He assured the young news caster. “The nurses’ uniform kind of suits him.” Casting a sly grin at the youngest occupant of the greenroom, he added: “Actually, doesn’t it make him look a little like Matsujun?”   
  
Masumoto Jun had been fixing his hair in the mirror and trying to ignore the inane behaviour of his fellow Idols, but could not hold his tongue at this gibe. “Hey!” fixing the trio with his most steely gaze he silently dared anyone to laugh at Ninomiya’s insult.   
  
Sakurai caved first, and he attempted to disguise his paroxysm of laughter with a coughing fit. Apparently, Matsumoto Jun was feeling unusually magnanimous, and only rolled his eyes at Sho’s antics. Sighing he tried to bring the room to some order. “Isn’t Aiba-san running late?” He asked the room at large. “I mean, we’re supposed to start shooting for _Shukudai-kun_ in twenty minutes and he’s not even here yet.”   
  
“The hair and make-up staff will yell at him…” Ohno agreed.   
  
Sakurai shot the older man a questioning look. “Why do you sound kind of happy when you say that?”   
  
“ _Because_ ,” And here, the young magician answered on his leaders behalf. “For once, Oh-chan won’t be the one getting in trouble about his sunburn!”   
  
The slight smirk that lifted the corners of Ohno Satoshi’s mouth seemed to confirm this assessment. The laughter of the three younger men echoed in the halls of the Nihon Television Station, where the sound met the ears of one Aiba Masaki.   
  
He entered the room in high spirits and greeted his colleagues brightly. His enthusiasm, however, was dampened when his friends regarded him in silent speculation. Four pairs of eyes were fixed upon the tall man and the little boy who held his hand and toddled beside him. “Uh, hi guys. This is Jay-kun.” He said casually and indicated the child.   
  
“EH!?” A chorus of confusion filled the room before Ninomiya addressed his childhood friend.   
  
“Aiba-chan… Whose kid did you steal?”   
  
“I didn’t _steal_ him!” Masaki objected. “I’m looking after him. As a Childminder, you know.”   
  
The diminutive leader of the group seemed lost. “Wait, are we still doing that segment?” He asked quietly.   
  
“Even if we were….” Sakurai spoke up. “Wouldn’t this be the wrong studio? Himitsu is a TBS program.”   
  
Aiba sighed dramatically. “Geez, guys,” Walking fully into the room and leading Jacob to the couch, he sat and pulled the boy onto his lap. “Jay-kun is my cousin. His mother just married my uncle and I’m looking after him for a few days. _Right_ , Jay-kun?” He addressed the little boy with his last statement and was rewarded with a single, decisive nod.   
  
Jun chimed in then, his tone serious. “Aiba-san, if you’re looking after your cousin, that’s fine, we don’t mind that. But why did you bring him here? We have work to do, after all.”   
  
“I know.” The cheerful young man reassured his colleague. “I’m taking care of everything properly.”   
  
“How?”   
  
“I asked one of the crew to look after Jay-kun in here during filming.” He explained.   
  
The younger man pushed himself away from the counter to face his friend. “That’s just making trouble for other people.” He pointed out.   
  
“Jay-kun is no trouble!” Aiba defended his bright young charge. “He doesn’t even cry.”   
  
The news caster of the group vacated his own seat to approach the boy in Aiba’s lap. “I don’t think that’s what Matsumoto meant.” He told the man while he offered his hand to the boy and smiled down at him.   
  
“It’s only this once.” Masaki insisted. “And he’s really cute.” He added, as if that negated all other arguments. “He doesn’t speak Japanese, but he’s really smart. Watch.” Switching into his limited English, he spoke to the boy and pointed at the rapper. “Jay-kun, say Sho.”   
  
Ohno cut in before the boy could reply. “Eh? English?”   
  
The man nodded absently. “That’s right. I’m teaching him how to speak.” He told the other members proudly. “Jay-kun, say Sh~o.” He repeated to the boy while pointing to Sakurai, who was now crouched in front of the child pulling faces and earning delighted giggles in response.   
  
“Sho!” Jacob exclaimed clearly and with some volume. He reached out with small hands to touch the cheeks of the smiling man. “Sho! Sho! Sho!” He echoed excitedly.   
  
Sakurai Sho laughed and rubbed the boys’ head. “Amazing!” He grinned. In English, he told the boy. “You are a good boy.”   
  
Jacob nodded. “Yeah!” He agreed in the smug way of the very young.   
  
“So cute…”   
  
Aiba hugged the child to him. “ _See?_ I said so, didn’t I? I told you he was cute.”   
  
Ninomiya Kazunari snorted disdainfully. “I find it more amazing that you intend to teach Japanese to someone when _you_ can barely speak it yourself.”   
  
“Don’t say stuff like that.” Masaki warned his friend. “I’m teaching him properly.”   
  
“Yeah, except I’ve only heard you talk to the kid in English so far.” The man pointed out sharply.   
  
The older man grinned guiltily, having been caught out by the truth. Luckily, he did not have to argue that point, because at that moment there was a knock at the door. A young female member of staff poked her head around the door and informed the group that they were ready to start filming. Aiba entrusted the little boy into her care and filed out the greenroom with the rest of his friends.   
  
“Hey guys,” He added as they made their way to the set. “Don’t mention Jay-kun during filming, OK?”   
  
Ohno Satoshi clapped the man on the back reassuringly. “We won’t.” He promised. “Will we?” The rest of his friends concurred readily enough and the five men made their way onto the set.   
  
* * *   
  
Holding his stomach and grimacing in distaste, Ninomiya was the first to return to the greenroom after filming. The food had been from a reputable restaurant and had tasted fine, but it now sat uncomfortably in his gut. Personally, he blamed Aiba for making him play a particularly energetic game involving a trampoline and a paddling pool full of jelly.   
  
But, despite his distracted state of mind, he noticed immediately that something was amiss in the greenroom; a number of things actually. The first thing he noticed was that his handheld game console had somehow found itself onto the floor in a corner of the room. The second thing he noticed was the absence of the female staff member who was supposed to be looking after the kid.   
  
Oh, and the kid was nowhere in sight either.   
  
He observed all this in the space of just a few seconds as the other caught up to him as he stood in the door way. “What’s wrong?” Jun asked when Ninomiya continued to block the door. “I thought you were in a hurry to get to the toilet?”   
  
The smaller man shook his head as Matsumoto tried to maneuver past him. “He’s gone.”   
  
The three older man reached the doorway just as the sardonic gamer made this statement. Kept from entering the room by Ninomiya’s arm thrown across the entrance, Sakurai was the first to ask what he meant. “Huh?”   
  
He never had to explain any further. At that moment, hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor. “Aiba-san, I’m _so_ sorry!” The young woman nearly crashed into the group of men in her haste.   
  
“What?” It took him a second to recognise the harried woman and the same young lady with whom he had left his young cousin. “What happened?” He demanded when he took in her agitated state.   
  
She gulped audibly. “I only took my eyes off him for a second...” Her voice trembled and tears shone in her eyes. “I’m so sorry! I’m really, really sorry!”   
  
Frightened by the woman’s words he took her by the shoulders if only to steady her wavering frame. “Wait. What happened?” He tried to keep him voice calm, but he couldn’t keep his voice from cracking slightly as he continued. “Where is Jay-kun? Is he hurt?”   
  
She shook her head. “No.” Aiba felt pointed relief before the girl added: “Or, I don’t know. He’s missing.”   
  
“What!?”   
  
Tears rolled down her cheeks as the young woman explained. “I didn’t mean to…” She sobbed. “I just went to the bathroom for a moment and when I came back…” Wiping her eyes she looked pleadingly to the stunned man. “I shut the door properly, I know I did. I didn’t think he would wander off.”   
  
The other men, having remained in shocked silence during this exchange, traded worried glances. Sakurai took advantage of the brief break the woman’s spiel to speak up. “None of that matters right now.” He laid a calming hand on the taller mans shoulder. “He couldn’t have gone very far Masaki. We’ll all split up and look for him.”   
  
The girl wailed anew. “I’ve already searched the whole floor!” She confessed. “I’m so terribly sorry….”   
  
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Aiba addressed the woman. “Just this floor?” He asked. At her nod of confirmation, Aiba felt his resolve harden. “Jay-kun knows how to open doors and use stairs.” He explained. “We’ll probably find him in the canteen.” He said with more conviction than he felt and a rather forced smile.   
  
“Right,” Sakurai looked to the woman, who had now calmed down a little but still trembled violently. “You should go and alert Security.” He told her. “Someone is bound to notice a baby foreigner wandering around alone.” He turned to Aiba. “The rest of us will split up and look for him too.” He declared. The others quickly voiced their assent. “Don’t worry Aiba-chan; little kids like to explore new places, he is probably making a den under some executive’s desk right now.”   
  
The distraught young guardian allowed himself to be consoled by Sakurai’s words and managed a thin smile. The group quickly dispersed to look for the toddler, each taking a different floor.   
  
Searching the staff room of _Tensai! Shimura Doubutsuen_ , Aiba Masaki fought to keep himself calm. He had never felt as helpless as he did at that moment. He was worried about his vulnerable cousin; scared that something bad might have happened to him and certain that if the worst _did_ happen, it would all be his fault.   
  
He had protested the idea of looking after the boy because he had worried that the boy would resent him, not because he thought it would be troublesome. When Jacob had shown himself to be a perfectly charming little boy, Aiba had felt real affection for the child. In the space of a single day they had grown close, had fun and become friends. Aiba now felt he had failed to take care of the boy.   
  
The young man fought back tears of recrimination as he moved onto the next room in the corridor. If something bad had befallen the toddler, he would never forgive himself. He had been searching for nearly forty minutes when his cellular phone buzzed in his pocket and alerted him to an incoming text message.   
  
Fishing the device out of his back pocket and reading the screen, relief flooded through him. Giddy, almost hysterical, laughter bubbled up from inside as he raced back to the Shukudai-kun greenroom.   
  
Matsumoto, Ohno and Sakurai were waiting for him when he arrived, Sakurai with a blissfully unaware toddler in his arms. “Jay-kun!” Aiba crossed the room in a few long strides and held his arms out for the child. Jacob happily went to his favorite new friend and chattered silly nonsense at him. “Ah, Jay-kun, you scared me…” He smiled, hugging the child.   
  
The door banged open and Ninomiya entered the room. “Where did you find him?” He asked Sho as he sprawled, exhausted, onto the vacant sofa.   
  
“The elevator.”   
  
“Huh? I thought it was broken?” He young man sat up slightly. “We used the stairs because the elevator wouldn’t work.”   
  
“Nope.” Sakurai corrected him with a grin. “Not broken. Jay-kun just happened to be inside playing with the buttons he could reach and dancing to the music.”   
  
Aiba broke in at that point. “So how did you find him?”   
  
“The doors happened to open in front of me while I was checking the hallway. He found me really.” The caster explained. “I heard someone say my name. When I turned to look, Jay-kun was in the elevator pointing at me just as the doors were closing.”   
  
Rising from his seat, Matsumoto stretched his long frame as he yawned. “Ah, well, I’m glad he’s alright, but I have a meeting to get to.” He stated apologetically. “I’ll tell Security they can stand down on my way out.”   
  
The other men bade him farewell, and the infant waved his goodbyes. “Oh, and Aiba-san.” The youngest paused briefly at the door. “You might want to find that girl and tell her she isn’t going to lose her job.”   
  
“Eh!?”   
  
“Or not.” He shrugged as the door closed behind him.   
  
Aiba stared wonderingly at the remaining members of the group. “Could I do that?” He asked in tones of genuine disbelief.   
  
Ninomiya chortled. “Probably.” He replied with a rather sinister twinkle in his eye. Moving to retrieve his game console from the floor, he gave his lanky friend a pat on the back in passing. “She lost an Idol’s kid, after all.”   
  
“Eh? But Jay-kun is not… I mean, I-”   
  
The quiet leader of the group cast a worried frown at the stuttering man. “Ah, you’re not going to get her in trouble are you?” He asked. Ohno Satoshi did not like or approve of conflict of any kind.   
  
“What? No.” Aiba informed the concerned man firmly. “She didn’t really do anything wrong. Besides, Jay-kun is fine.”   
  
“Yes he is.” The would-be magician agreed. “And now that that is settled, I’m going home.” He suited his actions to his words and left the room with the barest of farewells.   
  
Sakurai spoke into the following hush. “I think it’s time the rest of us head home too.” Absently, he proffered a hand to help Ohno to his feet and then approached the toddler in Masaki’s arms. “Jay-kun is probably tired from his little adventure today.” He stoked the plump, pink cheeks of the child and spoke to him in English. “Are you tired, Jay-kun?”   
  
The toddler managed to shake his head, yawn and snuggle into Aiba’s shoulder all in the same moment. Such a feat, of course, earned amazed and gentle laughter from the three men.   
  
They left the room together and left the building. Aiba held his charge close as he made his way home that night. It was a strange feeling for him, he knew; he felt unworthy of taking care of his precious little cousin, but he was glad he got to be the one to take him home. He decided within himself that for the next three days, Aiba Masaki was going to be the best Childminder ever. 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nino enjoys teasing his friends and Sakurai pays the price for it.

“Omph!” Aiba Masaki instinctively curled his long body into a protective ball. The unexpected pain had rendered him temporarily speechless. His vision blurred as his mahogany eyes watered and spots flashed behind his eyes. Gritting his teeth, the young man fought to catch his breath. Crouching on the floor in the foetal position, on the border between hysterical laughter and bitter tears, he made a pitiful sight. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, his subconscious told him that his current state hardly befitted an Idol. 

The cause of his present discomfiture stood before him. His attacker watched the man, bewilderment and shock plainly evident on his fair features. His small chin trembled and his grey eyes filled with unshed tears. He approached the fallen man and placed small hands on his head. Awkwardly, he patted and stoked the silky dark hair of the man. 

“Ma~kee OK?” He asked in the same gentle voice his mother used whenever he was hurt. When no response was forthcoming, he wrapped tiny arms around Aiba’s neck in a clumsy hug. “Shh…” He imitated the soft hushing noise made by his own mother when he cried. 

The young Idol managed to regain control of his body. He forced himself to sit up on his knees, holding the small boy as he did so. “I’m alright.” He gasped out at length. 

The little boy pulled away and regarded the man solemnly. “Jacob is bad?” 

“No, no.” Aiba replied in his native language, shaking his head and smiling at the boy to make his meaning clear. “But you should warn your mother,” he added. “If I end up unable to have children of my own, I’m adopting Jay-kun as compensation.” 

Jacob had only understood a few of the words of the unfamiliar tongue, but he could tell that his grown-up friend was not angry with him. “Kiss better.” The child announced as he leaned forward and pressed a wet kiss to Aiba’s cheek. 

“Ah, thank you Jay-kun.” Masaki said to the toddler. “I’m alright.” 

Listening intently, the boy repeated what he thought an important word. “Alright.” He agreed in Japanese. 

The single word was a bit garbled, but clearly recognisable. Excited by Jacobs’ obvious genius, Masaki praised the boy heavily. “That correct!” He cried, forgetting his discomfort, he jumped to his feet. He picked the boy up and lofted him above his head. He cheered and then repeated the phrase for the child. “Yay! Alright, it’s alright!” 

Jacob parroted the word back happily. He was not sure why his big playmate was so pleased, but he knew it had something to do with the new word he had learnt. The toddler did not know he had spoken in a language different from his own. To Jacob, the unfamiliar sounds of Japanese were simply words he had not learnt yet. He was just learning a new word for a concept he already knew; in much the same way he had learned that chair and seat both meant a place to sit. 

Besides, the word he had spoken was one he had heard Masaki repeat often in the short time they had known each other. 

Seeing this development as a breakthrough in his plan to teach the child to talk, Aiba Masaki could not contain his glee. He danced around the room with the boy in his arms. When both males were too dizzy to continue, Aiba put the boy down. “I guess I should teach you some more words now too.” 

For the next hour and during breakfast, Aiba worked on improving Jacobs’ vocabulary. He could only really teach as much Japanese as he knew English. By the time they were finishing their toast, however, the boy knew how to name plates, cups and could just about say good morning. 

The toddler helped Aiba take the dishes to the kitchen, following in his footsteps like a little duckling. “Thank you.” The man said as he took the plastic cup from the child and placed it in the sink. Stealing a look at the time digitised on his microwave display, the young Idol sighed. He would have to leave soon to record his radio show. 

He had arranged it so that his manager would come over and watch Jacob, but he already found himself oddly reluctant to leave the boy. He took solace in the fact that his radio show rarely took more than an hour to record. Unless Chika-san is late…. He mentally reminded himself. 

Taking a deep breath, he addressed the boy. “I suppose we have to get dressed properly.” He took Jacobs hand and led him back towards the bedroom. “After all, I can’t go to work in my pyjamas!” Wrinkling his nose slightly, he added: “And I had better change your diaper too, huh?” 

* * * 

“I want to see my son…” 

Casting Ohno the dirtiest look he could manage, Ninomiya shuffled his playing cards absently. “You have a son now?” He asked sarcastically. 

The older man seemed surprised that he friend would need to ask. “Er, no.” He replied. “But I want to see him.” 

The younger musician leaned back and laughed. “I don’t get you…” The two men had met early for breakfast to discuss a skit they were working on as Ohmiya SK. Sitting in a booth in a quiet corner of a family restaurant; they had long since finished their meal and their business. Instead, they had settled into a normal conversation, simply catching up. 

And then, into a companionable silence, Ohno Satoshi had voiced this strange sentiment. Ninomiya Kazunari never passed up an opportunity to mock another person; even if that person was his diminutive leader. “How can you see a son you don’t have?” 

Shrugging, he fiddled with his glass of water. “I want to know what my kids will be like.” He stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Wouldn’t that be cool? It’s like this little person you can make into anything you want.” 

“It’s a kid,” His friend scolded him divisively. “Not a lump of clay! But before that…. Don’t you need to be in a relationship with a woman to have kids?” 

“Uh, no.” Satoshi objected. “I don’t want to get married or anything. I’m just curious. Don’t you ever wonder about it?” 

“No.” 

Ohno was genuinely taken aback by his colleagues’ firm disagreement. “What? Not ever? Isn’t it normal to be curious about it?” He honestly did not see anything strange in wondering about his future, but his friends’ reaction seemed to say otherwise. He suddenly found he wanted Ninomiya to vindicate his normalcy. 

The younger man smirked to himself; he knew exactly what he was doing. Ohno Satoshi should have learnt a long time ago that Kazunari never went easy on anyone. He certainly was not going to be offering any words to make the man feel at ease; he enjoyed it too much when the older man was on edge. 

Instead, he ignored Ohno’s question and sighed heavily. “This is Aiba-chan’s influence isn’t it?” He stated accusingly. “That guy… it’s always his fault. It’s like his stupid is contagious.” 

“Eh? B-but that’s not-” 

He cut off his leaders stumbling protest. “So what are you going to do?” He queried sardonically. “Adopt some random brat?” 

At last, Ohno seemed to realise that the younger man was being deliberately obtuse. Folding his arms and leaning towards the man opposite him, he pouted. “Maybe I will. I could take him fishing.” 

“Uh huh…” Ninomiya arched an eyebrow sceptically. “And what about work? Or are you going to start bringing screaming brats to the studio too?” 

Amused by the hypothetical situation they were describing to each other, Ohno chuckled. “Ah, but no kid of mine will cry.” He informed his fellow Idol. “And everyone will help to raise it too.” 

“Oh, really?” 

“Yeah…. Sho-kun will teach it to be smart and help it study. Aiba-chan will take it on days out to the zoo and tell it all about animals. Nino…” He paused briefly to check his friends’ reaction. Ninomiya waited patiently, his face impassive. “You can play video games together, perform magic tricks, teach it how to act and play the guitar for it.” Still, there was no reaction. “And Matsujun will show it how to be cool.” 

“Wait, so I’m not cool?” Ninomiya demanded indignantly. 

“Eh!?” Satoshi chuckled; knowing he had been caught out by the younger mans perverse logic. Not to be outdone, the fresh-faced leader moved to sit next to his friend. Sidling beside him in the booth, Ohno put him arm around the mans shoulders. “In that case…” He began in reassuring tones. “Kazu-chan can be its mother.” 

Despite himself, Ninomiya laughed. “Hey, why do I have to be the mother? Why can’t I be the dad?” 

“Because it’s my kid and I want to be the father.” 

“You say that but, no matter how you look at it, if it’s your kid then that would mean you’re the mother.” 

Ohno was puzzled momentarily by this assertion. “How come?” 

“Isn’t it usually the girl who ‘owns’ the brats? Then I would just be the step-father who came later.” Ninomiya explained with the logic of a man who had no direct experience with the dynamics of family politics. 

“I see…” The young artist pulled away. Without saying anything and in perfect unison, the pair slowly began to get ready to leave. “Then we should share.” He offered as he picked up his jacket from the seat he had vacated. 

“Oh? In what way?” Ninomiya put his cards safely in his pocket and waited for his leader to pay for their meal. 

“We should adopt a kid together.” Satoshi continued as the pair made their way to the exit. “Then we can both be fathers.” 

“Ah, I see… Let’s do that.” He held the door for the older man. 

“Thanks. It’s a good idea, isn’t it? We’d be the best family ever.” He went on once they were outside. 

Walking side by side down the street, Ninomiya glanced at the smaller man. “But I thought you didn’t want to get married?” 

Ohno’s steps faltered briefly. “Oh, right.” He smiled. “I did say that, but…” 

“But…?” 

“Uh, if it’s Nino, I guess it’s OK.” 

The younger Idol threw his arm around the other man and rolled his eyes. “That’s a really bad way to propose Oh-chan.” He chided the man. “You should tell me you love me first.” 

“Oh, OK.” The smaller man nodded, still playing along. “I love Kazu-chan. Marry me.” 

Ninomiya had to let go of his leader and stop in the middle of the street because he had doubled over with laughter. “Why…?” He tried to catch his breath and wiped the hysteria induced tears fro his eyes. “Why do I still end up looking like the girl?” 

Half a step ahead of Ninomiya, and looking back at his friend, Ohno shrugged. “It doesn’t matter does it?” He asked. He would have continued, but at that moment, Ninomiya’s cell phone began to ring. 

“Fine…” The younger man straightened up and pulled the device from his pocket. Before checking the screen he pointed at Ohno and added: “But if I’m the girl I’m telling you that we are not having kids.” Quickly, he accepted the call and held the phone to his ear. “Hello?” 

“Ah, Nino? It’s Aiba-chan.” 

“What do you want?” He asked shortly. 

“Are you free right now?” 

The aspiring magician rolled his eyes impatiently and suppressed a sigh. “I’m out with Leader right now.” He explained. “Just on my way home.” 

“Just Ohno-san?” 

“Yeah.” He answered slowly. Some sixth sense made him cautious; there was a wheedling quality to Aiba’s voice that Ninomiya knew to be wary of. 

“I have a favour to ask…” 

He had known it! He really did not what to know what his childhood friend wanted from him, but could not stop himself from asking anyway. “What is it?” He told himself that if it had anything to do with the brat he was saddled with currently; Ninomiya Kazunari would verbally torture the tall man for a month. 

“About Jay-kun, I need someone to-” 

The young man took the phone from his ear and held it before him for a second. He felt a great deal of satisfaction at depressing the power button and hanging up on the man. 

As he put the – now powerless – device away, Ohno gave him a curious look. “Who-?” 

“Just some idiot.” He explained truthfully enough. Babies turn everyone into idiots. He thought to himself. And Masaki doesn’t need any more stupid. “Come on,” he walked quickly, forcing Satoshi to hurry after him. “Let’s go get married.” 

“But Nino…” The older man caught up. “I thought we were only getting married so we could get a kid together.” He pointed out, smirking. 

And I just said I was never having kids… The young man internalised. Aloud, he simply scoffed, clapped the other man companionably on the back and the pair walked on. A shame about that…. 

* * * 

Aiba felt panic rising from his gut. “This is bad…” Glancing at the time he ran his hand through his hair. He would have to leave soon or risk being late for work. Aiba had never been late for his radio show. After the phone call he had taken from is manager, he had been desperately making phone calls of his own. 

Matsujun had not answered his call and Ninomiya had hung up on him. He had actually hung up mid sentence. – At that, the tall Idol privately decided that the next time his friend left his DS unattended; it was going to find itself atop the highest shelf in the vicinity. – He knew that Ohno was in the company of the miniature magician, and would be of little help. Which left only one person he could call. 

He checked on his little cousin as he dialled the number. Jacob sat quietly in the middle of the floor drawing on scrap paper with crayons that Aiba had located in the luggage his mother had packed for the boy. The phone rang in his ear and the man began to fear that Sakurai would not take his call. He was not even sure if the other man had any work that day. Silently, he closed his eyes and prayed for one of the miracles he was so famous for. 

Finally, a voice came on the line. “Hello? Aiba-kun, is something wrong?” 

The man released the breath he had unconsciously been holding. “Ah, Sho-kun! Uh, is now a good time? You’re not working are you?” 

“Well, not really; just some research for Zero.” Came the reply. “Why? What do you need?” 

“Um… well you know I’m taking care of my cousin, right…” He explained slowly. “I asked my manager to watch him because I have to record my radio show.” 

Sakurai Sho interjected. “Jay-kun hasn’t wandered off again, has he?” he asked incredulously. 

“No! Eh… that thing is… I have to leave in thirty minutes and my manager just got called to some big meeting and can’t come.” He heard his friend sigh down the line. 

“And you’re asking me? What about your parents?” The caster suggested reasonably. 

Aiba shook his head before he remembered that Sakurai could not see the gesture. “Can’t.” He vocalised. “There isn’t enough time to get there. Besides, they’re busy with the restaurant. And I can’t take Jay-kun with me.” He finished on a pleading note. 

“Because of what happened yesterday, huh?” Sakurai sympathised. “I see your point.” 

“Well, that too I suppose. But I wouldn’t be able to take him anyway; it’s radio so the station doesn’t have dressing rooms or anything. Sho-kun…I can’t leave him in the lobby!” He heard the older man laugh at his predicament. “This is serious!” He wailed. “Please Sho-kun? I’m begging you.” 

“Fine, fine.” The rapper placated the worried man. “I’ll drive over now.” 

“Really? Thank goodness… Sakurai-kun, you’re the best; thank you.” He was just about to hang up when another thought occurred to him. “Uh, do you need directions to my apartment?” 

“Of course not!” His tone seemed to scold Aiba for thinking Sakurai would be unable to locate his house. “I was the one dragging your drunk butt home not even two weeks ago.” 

“Oh, that’s right.” Aiba laughed. He reddened slightly at the memory of the state he had been in and was glad his friend was not able to see him do so. Unconsciously, he became aware of a change in the quality of the silence in his living room and turned to check on Jacob as he spoke to his friend. “OK then, I’ll see y- Jay-kun!? No! Not on the walls!!!” 

Laughing, Sakurai chose that moment to hang up. 

Masaki raced across the room and scooped the wayward toddler into his arms and away from his walls. Walls that had been white but were now decorated with a tangled ribbon of green wax. Startled by the unexpected volume and reprimanding tone of his big friends’ voice, Jacob had dropped the offending crayon as if burned. Then, suddenly pulled away from his illicit art, the child began to cry. 

“Uh oh…” The inexperience Childminder froze. He had not meant to scare the child into tears. “Ah, Jay-kun…” He bounced the boy comfortingly. “I shouldn’t have yelled like that; I’m sorry, OK?” Resting the infant on his shoulder and patting his back gently, Aiba consoled his young charge. “I’m sorry, but you really shouldn’t draw on the walls. You use paper for that. Paper.” He repeated softly for emphasis. 

Eventually, the boys tears dried up and his cries became sniffles. “There, there. Please don’t cry.” The Idol continued softly. “Sho-kun is coming over, after all, and it’ll make him sad if Jay-kun is upset. There, there. It’s not that bad; green is my favourite colour, I suppose. It’s alright now.” The little boy sniffed and mumbled something against Masaki’s shoulder. “Huh?” 

Lifting his small head slightly, the child repeated himself quietly. “Alright…. Alright?” He used the word he had learnt earlier. He thought it must be a special word because it always made his big friend smile. 

“Yes, Jay-kun. It’s alright.” Taking a look at Jacob’s tear-stained cheeks and runny nose, Aiba’s smile took on a rueful aspect. “Uh, guess I’d better hide the evidence and wash your face. I told everyone that you didn’t cry, after all. OK, lets go.” For Jacobs benefit, he added in English: “Bathroom, Let’s Go!” And they did just that. 

Sakurai pulled up in front of Aiba’s apartment just minutes before the taller man had to leave. As the guest removed his shoes, the breathy voiced Idol was putting his own on. “Jay-kun is taking a nap.” The told his replacement in a whisper. “His lunch is in the refrigerator; just heat it up if he gets hungry. Diapers are in the bag in the bedroom and don’t leave him alone if he’s drawing.” 

Eyes wide and biting down on his amusement, Sakurai regarded his friend as the man struggled into his coat. “Wow, Aiba-chan, that’s amazing…” He praised him in tones of awe. “You sound just like a mother.” 

“Uh huh…” He barely registered Sho’s words as he pulled the front door open and made to leave. “Oh, and I taught him some Japanese today.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. Ah, I nearly forgot…” He gave Sakurai a hard stare. “If he comes running at you for a hug: He tends to charge headfirst; you might want to protect yourself if you ever want kids of your own.” 

The well built man cringed. “Don’t tell me…?” 

Aiba nodded. “It’s bad enough at any time of the day, but two minutes after I wake up is the worst. Anyway, I’m going now.” 

“Have a safe trip!” Sakurai called after him, standing at the doorway and see the man off. As the younger man drove away, Sho caught himself waving. Slowly, he brought his hand down and stared at the unruly limb. Well, that was weird. He mentally mocked himself. Shaking his head and grinning, he went inside and closed the door behind him. 

While wandering aimlessly around the apartment, Sakurai realised he had forgotten to ask Masaki how long he would be. Shrugging it off as something that could not be helped, he opened the door to the spare bedroom. 

In sleep, Sho could see the just-washed pink of the infants’ cheeks. He also noticed the slight puffiness of his eyes which no amount of washing could erase. “So…” Be breathed quietly, careful not to disturb the child. “You cried when Aiba-chan yelled at you, huh?” Crouching down the study the boys face, he stoked his soft fluffy hair gently. “I don’t blame you.” He assured the slumbering child. “I’d cry too if Masaki-kun ever got really mad at me.” 

He spent a few minutes simply lost in watching the rhythmic rise and fall of Jacobs breathing. It was for the peaceful moments like these that he wanted a family of his own. He remembered when he used to watch his little brother sleep, and was reminded of how he had sometimes poked him awake so he could play with him. He remembered how angry him mother was the one time she caught him and how his brother would not stop crying for hours. But that had not been his fault; his brother had still been asleep before his mother started shouting at him. 

Now, he had no desire to wake the little boy. Instead, he crept quietly out of the room. As he made his way back to the main room, he noticed the very ‘modern’ art that that now graced the wall at the start of the hallway. And by modern, he meant recent; it certainly had not been there when he had visited ten days ago. He had suspected the toddler of drawing on the walls when he had heard Aiba shouting over the phone. And here was the proof: literally written all over the walls in bright green crayon. 

Chuckling to himself, Sakurai collected his research materials from his bag and settled himself onto the sofa to work. 

At some point during his analysis of the paperwork, a storm had rolled in. It was a flash of lightening that alerted him. He had been so caught up in his work he had not even noticed the howling wind or the driving rain that pelted the windows in a staccato drumbeat. The crash of thunder directly overhead, however, did make him jump. Putting his work away he was just about the check on Jacob when he heard the bedroom door open. 

The little boy emerged into the hallway. His eyes were still clouded with sleep and the pillow had left red creases on one side of his squidgy face. The toddler spotted the man watching him from the living room and simply stared for a moment. Quickly the child glanced up and down the hall as if he was looking for something – or someone. 

“Ma-kee?” He asked with jaw-creaking yawn. 

“Sorry.” Sakurai smiled ruefully and approached the child. “I guess I’m not the person you want to see right now, huh?” 

In a flash of recognition, the child pointed at the man as he neared. “Sho!” He exclaimed. The toddler closed the distance between them and took the mans hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Sho play now.” The child told him presumptuously. 

The unlikely babysitter allowed himself to be led back to the main room. The boy towed him to the window and he pressed his face to the glass. Jacob watched the rain fall, fascinated by the squall. “I see…” The Idol voiced his thoughts aloud. “Jay-kun isn’t afraid of storms, huh?” 

The infant did not seem to pay any attention to the man. His eyes were fixed upon the scene before him; the play of water against the glass. At another particularly loud rumble of thunder, however, his head whipped around to face the man. His grey eyes shone with excitement and his mouth formed a tiny ‘o’ of surprise. “Oh no!” He breathed in an oddly satisfied voiced that did not really match his words. 

Sakurai gave a snorting laugh and tussled the boys hair fondly. Anything gets this kid excited. He thought privately. He really could be Masaki’s child. Out loud, he spoke to the boy. “Are you hungry, Jay-kun?” He asked in English. “Do you want to eat?” He mimed the act of eating to make sure he was understood. 

Jacob nodded and returned to observing the tempest. The young man left the child to his surveillance and went to put together the toddlers lunch. Sho noticed that taking care of a child seemed so much easier when there were not cameras around. Perhaps because Jacob was connected to him via Aiba Masaki, Sakurai found it easy to like the boy. 

As he pottered around the unfamiliar kitchen, the rapper thought about his own future family. Somehow, he could not quite imagine a family more perfect than Aiba and his little cousin. He had to admit that Aiba had taken to temporary fatherhood like a duck to water. He had always thought that his tall colleague would one day make a very happy home, but now he knew for sure that Aiba would never forgo having a family. 

In some ways, it made him sad that Aiba would one day have a family of his own. Oh, he knew it would not keep the energetic man from enjoying his work as an Idol. And yet, a great deal of Masaki’s charm lay in his childlike naivety, Sakurai feared that real life responsibilities would mature the man beyond all recognition. 

* * * 

“I’m home!” Aiba toed off his shoes in the entrance way and removed his soggy coat, shaking some of the water from his hair as his did so. “Sorry I’m late.” He continued when there was no immediate response. Walking into the living room he found the space empty. “Sakurai-kun? Jay-kun?” He called louder. 

“Ah! Aiba-chan, welcome home!” Sho’s voice echoed from down the hall. “We’re in the bath!” 

The taller man joined the pair in the bathroom. The little boy bounced happily in the warm water upon seeing his favourite grownup. “Ma~kee!” He splashed to his feet and held onto the side of the tub. The older Idol had to shift back in the water to avoid being stepped on by little feet. 

Aiba knelt beside the bath and patted the soggy boy’s head. “Hi Jay-kun. I’m home.” He grinned. 

“Oh, that right!” Sakurai sat up and tried to get the toddlers attention. “Hey, Jay-kun, why don’t you show Masaki what you learned with me today?” Then, in English he told the boy: “Jay-kun, can you say welcome home?” The last being a typical Japanese phrase. 

The boy beamed. “Ma~kee, welcome home.” He repeated obediently. He was instantly rewarded by the mans smile. 

“That’s amazing…” Aiba breathed. “When did…?” 

Sho smiled smugly. “We’ve been practising since lunchtime.” He told his friend. “But we got a bit excited and most of Jay-kun’s lunch ended up on us instead of in his stomach.” He confessed. Cupping some water in his hands, the bare-chested man gave his face one final scrub. “You got caught in the storm?” He asked, finally noticing Aiba’s sodden appearance. 

“Just a little.” The younger man replied distractedly as he idly swept his hands in the water and watched the boy. 

“Why don’t you get in the bath with Jay-kun?” He suggested. “I don’t think he’s ready to get out yet and you should get warm quickly.” 

“Good idea.” Aiba agreed. As Sakurai stood, the younger man handed him a towel and began to rid himself of his wet clothing. 

“Hurry up.” Sho chided him as he rubbed the excess water from his hair and tied the towel around his waist. “I’ll wash your back for you.” He offered. 

Nodding, Aiba soon joined the toddler in the bath. 

Sometime later, warm dry and smelling pleasantly of soap, the three males relaxed together on the sofa. Shoulder to shoulder, the two men held the child between them, sitting on half of both of their laps. Sakurai was reading a picture book to Jacob in English. It was apparently the child’s favourite story and luckily, it was simple enough that Sakurai thought even Aiba would be able to read it. Although, whether the man would understand it or not was a different matter. 

Occasionally, Masaki would point at a picture and name the object in Japanese and Jacob would attempt to repeat the word. Distantly, Sho wondered how the three of them might appear to someone else. We must look like a strange sort of family…. Oddly, the idea did not bother him in the slightest. Huddling closer to his friend and leaning over the boy, he continued to read.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the tale closes like a fluffy bath towel.

It had been arranged in secret. It was spoken of in whispers in the stolen moments outside of the tallest members’ hearing. At the suggestion of the youngest member, the plan had quickly taken shape. In anticipation of the end of Aiba Masaki’s tenure as a temporary caretaker, his four closest friends and colleagues had assembled. In a quiet restaurant the four men gathered around the table at lunchtime and discussed the surprise they had put together. 

“…the last time all of us did something together in our free time?” The well educated caster was saying as Ninomiya Kazunari returned from a bathroom break. 

“Yeah, but why now?” He asked, taking his seat. He was not really against the plan; he simply argued for the sake of argument. Truthfully, after Aiba had brought his cousin to their first night of concert rehearsals the previous night, Ninomiya had warmed to the boy. The toddler and done more dancing then the Idols while the five men had formed an enraptured audience. Watching the toddler attempt to mimic the signature dance of Arashi’s debut single had charmed even the most indifferent of them. 

As the unlikely initiator, Matsumoto answered his question. “It’s been four days, right?” He began. “And this is Aiba-chan we’re talking about; he’s probably gotten really attached to the kid.” 

“Meaning…?” Ninomiya regarded the younger man sceptically. 

“So when Jay-kun goes back to his parents, Aiba-chan will be upset. It wouldn’t surprise me if he cries.” 

“Hah! So? Aiba-chan cries at everything.” 

Sakurai cut in then. “Yeah, but imagine how much worse it would be if Masaki was genuinely depressed.” He warned the younger man. “He’s usually the one who keeps the atmosphere light; if he’s upset it could affect all of us. But more importantly, he’s our friend; why shouldn’t we do this?” 

The young magician relented and relaxed further into his chair. “Fine.” The smallest man, sat directly opposite threw him a lazy smile. “What are you smirking about?” He demanded with a smile of his own. “At least say something. I can’t believe you agreed to this; wouldn’t you rather be fishing?” 

Ohno Satoshi shrugged. “I’ll go afterwards.” He stated quietly and made no further comment. 

Ninomiya turned back to the instigator of the whole plan. “I’m not against it.” He told the younger man. “I’m more surprised that you, of all people, would suggest it. I thought you would be furious that Aiba interrupted a concert rehearsal.” 

Matsumoto took a sip of his water before replying. “No, to be honest, at first I was kind of pissed.” He confessed. “But it was only that once, right? I guess it’s not so bad to relax once in a while.” 

“Whoa…. I think our prince is mellowing in his old age.” The sharp tongued musician gasped teasingly. “Or you’re in love.” He added with a smirk. 

The table erupted into good-natured laughter as the young man tried to cut through the din to deny the baseless accusations. Finally, Matsumoto gave up and joined his friends in laughing. When they had finished, he addressed the group. “Alright.” He got gracefully to his feet. “Somehow, I think it’s time to get started.” 

The three older men agreed and together they left the restaurant. 

* * * 

“He learned some Japanese.” Aiba explained quietly as he handed the sleeping child back to his mother. 

Beside the foreign woman, his uncle picked up Jacobs bag and hefted it over one shoulder. “Thanks Ma-kun.” The man grinned. “I know it couldn’t have been easy with your work and everything.” 

Aiba inclined his head in acknowledgement. Speaking softly, her accent forcing Aiba to listen carefully, his new aunt seemed worried. “Are you sure Jacob didn’t cause any trouble?” She asked as she settled the toddler more comfortably in her arms. “I told your uncle we should hire a professional, but he insisted.” 

The young man shook his head in denial of that option. “Jay-kun was no trouble.” He reassured the woman. He was not going to mention the Elevator Incident. “And everyone liked him.” 

“Really? You’re sure? He didn’t throw any tantrums or anything? He does, you know, when he can’t have his own way. And he gets so cranky when he’s tired.” She sounded so guilty about foisting her child on the young man and Aiba could only feel sorry for her. 

She must have spent her whole honeymoon worrying about him. He thought to himself. He had suspected his uncle had been behind the whole arrangement; the man in his late forties had a mischievous streak a mile wide, but Aiba had not known that the woman had serious reservations about it. Moreover, she seemed more concerned with what her son had put the Idol through rather than the other way around. “In that case,” Masaki reassured her. “I might have spoiled him a little. He didn’t have any tantrums and I just put him to bed when he fell asleep.” 

“Ah, that’s good.” She sighed, relieved. 

His uncle patted his new young wife on the shoulder. “It’s about time to go.” He told her. “And give my nephew some peace before Jacob-kun wakes up.” 

Silently, Aiba saw his guests to the door. Thanking him again, the family of three left and the young man found himself completely alone. With a breathy sigh, he stretched out on his sofa and closed his eyes. He began to regret not making any plans for that day; he definitely felt like he needed a drink. 

An hour later, the usually carefree man was in the middle of straightening up the spare bedroom where Jacob had slept when his doorbell rang. Opening the door, the tall man was surprised by what he found. Every member of Arashi had visited his home at some point in the past, but never all four of them at once. “Guys…? Wha-” 

Without waiting for an invitation, his four longtime colleagues invaded his home. Matsumoto and Sakurai each carried a case of beer, Ohno held enough Chinese takeout to feed a small army. Ninomiya had a carrier bag full of what looked like comics and DVD’s. “Eh… what’s going on here?” Aiba asked as his unexpected guest made themselves at home. 

Sakurai took a beer for himself and passed one to the taller man as he answered. “We just felt like coming over.” He replied lightly. His tone implied that such an action was not unusual in the least. 

Judging from the innocent expressions on the groups faces, Masaki knew he could not expect a straight answer. “Whatever…” He grinned, opening the can and taking a long pull on the alcohol. If his friends wanted to spend some time with him and have some fun, Aiba Masaki was not going to complain. Instead he crossed the room and bounded onto his couch, half landing on Ninomiya in the process. “It’s a little early to be drinking though.” He added in a murmur. 

“Hey, watch it!” His childhood friend scolded him when Aiba’s action threatened to spill beer on the younger man. Tolerantly, Ninomiya manhandled his lanky friend into a more suitable position for them both. He was joined on his other side by Ohno, who passed him a beer of his own in the process. 

Matsumoto was busy checking out Aiba’s CD collection across the room. Having made his choice, he turned on the stereo and sat on the arm of the sofa on Aiba’s right. “I guess you would call it a house party.” He informed the taller man. “We had to have it early because this is the only time we’re all free. Nino and I have a magazine interview at five.” 

“And I’m going fishing.” Ohno chimed in needlessly. 

Sakurai, half sprawled on the carpet, reached over and smacked their leaders’ legs. “Oi!” He exclaimed. “You don’t have to tell him that.” 

In high spirits, Aiba laughed, taking no offence at Ohno’s words. “So what are we celebrating?” He questioned. 

“Well…” Sho looked around to the others for support. “…us, I guess.” He stated at last when his friends remained silent. 

Missing the byplay, Aiba accepted the explanation easily enough. “Arashi?” Sakurai nodded. “Then to Arashi!” He raised his can in a toast and his friends copied his gesture. “Cheers!” 

“Cheers!” Four voices echoed him. 

* * * 

A few hours later, the youngest pair was getting ready to leave for their appointment. They alone had only consumed one can of beer each while the others had not held back at all. The scene they left behind was a lively one: Satoshi, stripped to the waist, was entertaining his friends with a particularly drunken dance. Sho and Masaki looked on from the sofa, laughing and shouting encouragement. 

Sakurai sat on one side of the couch while the taller man simply lay across its length, using the older mans lap as a footrest. Every now and then Aiba would roll in mirth a little too energetically and the rapper would have to keep him from falling from his seat by throwing an arm over his legs. 

Stumbling over one of the many empty food cartons scattered around the room, Ohno fell to the floor. His graceless descent earned a loud cheer from his audience. Not bothering to stand, he crawled over to the sofa and slouched against its frame. “Ah! I’m tired….” He complained, slurring his words only slightly. 

Aiba flipped onto his stomach and leaved over the edge of the cushions to bring his face into view of his leader. “What are you saying!?” He teased the man. “It’s still early!” 

“Then you dance!” Ohno pouted indignantly. 

Finding this funny beyond all reason, the tall Idol laughed himself right off the sofa and fell headfirst into Ohno’s lap. “Ouch….” He gasped between breathy chuckles. Awkwardly the two men untangled themselves. “That hurt.” 

Sakurai laughed. “You’re hurt!?” He scoffed. “You just kicked me in the chin when you fell.” The caster rubbed the affected area for emphasis, but could not keep the smile from his face. 

“Sorry.” His apology, while perfectly sincere, was coloured with amusement. “I have to pee.” Aiba announced, getting to his feet. He ignored the protests of his friends telling him that they did not need such information and stumbled down the hall to his bathroom. 

As soon as the lanky man was out of earshot, Sakurai took a sobering breath and whispered to the older man. “Ohno-san, do you think Aiba-chan is alright?” 

The bare-chested man shrugged. “Don’t know. We’ve been distracting him properly like Matsujun told us.” He replied. 

“Yeah…” Sho leaned back into the cushions. His smile faded to a look of concern. “I guess we don’t know if it’s working or not until we’re not distracting him anymore.” Casting a hasty glance into the direction of the toilet he continued. “Maybe one of us better stay here tonight and keep an eye on him.” He suggested. 

“Eh? But… I wanted to go fishing.” Ohno pointed out. 

“Like that?” Sakurai raised a sceptical eyebrow and regarded the small mans semi-naked, half-cut condition. “You’ve been drinking.” 

“The captain drives the boat though.” Satoshi defended himself. “Why don’t you stay?” 

“Me?” 

“Yeah, you’re better at stuff like this anyway.” Neither man could argue any further because they heard their friend returning down the hall. 

Bounding back into the room, the young man picked up the bag Ninomiya had left behind. “Hey, why don’t we watch a movie?” He asked, riffling through the DVD’s. The others agreed and the three men settled in to watch the latest Hollywood action-thriller. 

As the credits rolled, Ohno Satoshi stretched laboriously and gave a jaw-cracking yawn. Picking up his discarded shirt he turned to his friends. “I have to go.” He informed them. 

“Already?” Aiba asked, disappointed. 

“Yeah.” Ohno insisted. “The captain gets mad if I wake him up.” 

Masaki’s long frame nearly doubled over in laughter. “Then you don’t have to go at all; you just want to!” He clarified, but he was not insulted; Ohno had already sacrificed half a day worth of fishing, after all. Happily, he saw his leader safely into a cab and rejoined Sakurai in the living room. The conscientious caster was tiding up the empty cans and cartons. “Ah, you don’t have to do that.” Aiba rushed over to help, taking the rubbish out of his friends’ hands. 

“It’s fine.” Sho waved him away. “We made all this mess anyway. Your place was surprisingly tidy before we dropped in.” 

“Surprisingly?” Aiba repeated. “What do you mean by that?” He grinned. “Sho-chan's room is always messy.” 

The well built man nodded guiltily. “That’s true.” He confessed. “I just meant it was really clean for someone who just had a toddler as a guest.” As soon as the sentence was out of his mouth, he regretted it. He was supposed to be keeping the tall man from thinking about Jacob, and all he had done was remind him of the child. He was so busy with mental recriminations; he nearly missed Masaki’s reply. 

“I do know how clean up after people, you know.” He informed his friend loftily. He did not seem upset at the mention of Jacob, and Sakurai breath a sigh of relief. 

“Sorry. I know that.” Unconsciously, his eyes travelled to the scribble of green crayon visible on the wall of the hallway. 

“Well, except that.” The tall man conceded, following his gaze. “Because I have no idea how to get crayon off walls.” 

“WD-40” Sakurai replied absently. 

“Huh?” 

The rapper gave a self deprecating grin. “To get crayon of walls.” He explained. “It’s what my mother used with my kid brother.” 

“Oh, I see….” The tall Idol shook his head. “No, I think I’m going to leave it there. Like a feature.” 

“A design feature?” Sakurai could only laugh at his friends’ whimsy. 

“Exactly!” Aiba proclaimed triumphantly. He returned to the task of cleaning the rubbish while the older man stood in place and pondered those words. He was afraid that Aiba was clinging to the ‘artwork’ as a reminder of the toddler, and he did not think such an approach was healthy. He helped Masaki tidy while his mind churned with worries for his cheerful friend. 

Between the two of them, the room was quickly brought to some order. As they sat in comfortable silence, Sakurai could take it no longer. He needed to talk to the younger man and make sure Aiba was truly himself. “Masaki…?” He began gently in a tone that suggested he wanted a serious conversation. 

“Hmm?” The lean man looked up from the magazine he had been flipping through. “What is it?” He asked, sitting up and curling his feet under himself and he leaned on the arm of the sofa. 

Sho took a deep breath and wondered where to start. He had had people come to him for advice before, and indeed he had gone to others with his worries, Aiba included. However, he had never tried to make someone talk about their troubles before. He had been raised not to interfere in the lives of others, but Masaki was different. 

After nearly a decade, surely their relationship went beyond that of colleagues, or indeed, simple friendship? In a sense, they were family, and was it not normal to meddle within your own family from time to time? Choosing his words carefully he spoke of his concerns. “Are you really alright with Jacob going home like that?” 

With a sigh Aiba replied immediately. “It is a bit regrettable, isn’t it?” 

Seeing an opening, Sakurai pressed for further details. “Tell me about it.” 

“I didn’t get to say goodbye properly.” The younger man continued flatly. 

Sakurai injected his voice with as much sympathy as he could muster. “That must have been upsetting.” He agreed. “But you can’t let it get to you.” 

“Well I had only just put him down for his nap.” Aiba grinned. “I wasn’t going to wake him up just to say goodbye.” 

The caster nodded. “That was very mature of you.” He acknowledged. Whether he was aware of it or not, his tone had become condescending and Aiba picked up on it straight away. 

“Wait, what is this?” He asked at last. “Why are you talking like that Sho-kun?” 

“We’re all worried about you Aiba-chan.” He admitted. “Everyone could see how close you are to Jay-kun, and we know how sad it must be to say goodbye.” 

“Aw, Sho-chan~” Smiling, Aiba launched himself at the surprised man and threw his arm about Sakurai’s shoulder. “So that’s what today was about? You were all worried about me?” 

“Well, of course.” The older man replied, turning to look his friend in the eye, their faces only inches apart. “Everyone cares about you a lot, you know.” He continued softly. 

“But why would I be upset?” Aiba pulled back slightly, confusion written over his fair features. “Jay-kun is my cousin, Sho-chan.” He reminded the man patiently. “I can go and visit him anytime, and I don’t have to change any more diapers!” 

“Eh!?” 

Aiba threw his head back and laughed, simultaneously pulling his friend in for a proper hug. “You guys were really worried, huh?” 

Sakurai struggled indignantly out of the rough embrace. “Yes, we were!” He shot back, irrationally offended by Masaki’s apparent lack of sensitivity. “I thought you would be grief stricken.” 

Sensing that his reaction had affronted his kind-hearted friend, Masaki bit his lip. “Sorry, Sho-chan.” He apologised. Wriggling closer to the man he laid his head on Sakurai’s comfortable shoulders. “I’m really lucky, huh? I have the best friends in the world.” 

“No, I should be the one to apologise.” The caster sighed. “I’m glad you’re OK.” He continued, putting his arm around his friend and resting his cheek against the younger mans head. “Honestly, I think I’ll probably miss Jay-kun more than you.” 

“If you ever miss him too much, just let me know.” Aiba suggested peacefully. “And we’ll go visit him together.” 

Smiling to himself and taking Masaki’s hand, he nodded. “It’s a promise.” 

And neither man moved for a very long time after that. 

 

End.


End file.
